


Milton, Homer, and Al-Ma'arri

by misbegotten



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9189293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: Robbie doesn't even realise that something is missing until well after the fact.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble based on the prompt: lacuna. Um... oops? Happy New Year!

Robbie doesn't even realise that something is missing until well after the fact. Thirty-six days, actually, which isn't that long but it's long enough when one takes into account that… well, Laura is supposed to be his happy ending, isn't she? 

But he's not. Happy, that is.

They talk about it, because Robbie is honest and open. And confused. Laura gives him a quirk of a smile and a hug. They've shared much more, but there's something about the hug. Something final.

"Give James my best," she says.

It's a long trip back to England. It's an even longer one to James' flat. And, because Robbie doesn't have the courage to face him down at the nick, Robbie ends up sitting against James' door, cooling his heels as he becomes increasingly nervous. Of all the stupid, idiotic, ridiculous ideas--

"Robbie?" James has managed to sneak up on him. "Sir?"

He looks good, as always. He wears his suit well, his hair is a bit longer than Robbie remembers, and the puzzled, nay bewildered, expression on his face is endearing.

"You had it right the first time, lad," Robbie says, running a hand over his face. Oh, Christ. What to say next. 

There's a time for words. And a time for action. Robbie says a mental prayer to a deity he's never felt particularly close to, and screws his hand around James' tie. Pulls him in. Presses his lips to James'.

There's nothing.

Robbie feels a right fool. Worse than a fool.

There's nothing, and then there's… "Thank _God_ ," James says, and kisses him back.

Kisses? This more like full on assault. Robbie hits the back of James' door with a huff of air quickly lost to James' greedy mouth. James engulfs him, presses him against the wood, pins his hands behind Robbie's head as if to ensure that Robbie can't escape, and devours. 

Robbie's rousted couples engaging in this kind of behaviour in public.

It doesn't stop him from pushing back, getting used to the feel of James along the length of him. He lets his hands settle at James' hips, tugs and adjust a bit to get them aligned, and then enjoys the electric shock of his groin stirring against James. 

This isn't quite what he imagined. He's not sure what he'd imagined, actually. It's indecent to say he'd imagined this. 

Hoped for, maybe. But never imagined.

"James," he says, inhaling noisily when James sucks on his bottom lip. "James."

James' pupils are wide and his voice is trembling. "Yeah?"

"Inside," Robbie says firmly.

"W-What?"

"The flat, James. Inside the flat."

James flushes. His hands are unsteady as he pulls out his keys, but he manages to unlock the door and shove it open. It resounds with a thunk as it hits the wall. Before it bounces back, somehow they are through the doorway and James has already managed to close the door behind them.

It's dark in James' flat, and Robbie blinks to adjust his eyes. James takes a moment too, a long, deep breath and then, "What? How?"

Robbie can't help a laugh. And then he laughs harder. James starts to back up but Robbie pulls him close, burying his head in James' neck as he chortles. "No witty rejoinders? No apt quotations?"

"For fuck's sake, Robbie," James mutters. He wraps his arms around Robbie, no longer heated but warm, welcoming. "I'm just glad to see you."

"Aye," Robbie says, a chuckle still on his lips. He leans into the embrace, bucks his hip up to meet the sharp edge of James' cock hard through his trousers. "Glad to see me."

"Glad to feel you," James adds, his tone playful now. "Glad everything."

Robbie kisses him, properly this time. A gentle thing, not tentative but tasting, relishing the flavour of him, the scent, the texture. "Ah lad, I'm glad that you're glad," he says softly. "I've got nowhere to stay tonight."

"Stay at mine?" James breathes against his lips.

"Yeah, alright then," Robbie answers, as if reluctant. But God, the feel of the man! James, in his arms, feels perfect. They fit.

And in an instant, things become heated again. There's a fire in Robbie now, and he can feel it burning him up, consuming them both. James takes in a shaky breath and pulls Robbie, tugs him toward the bedroom. As if Robbie needed prompting.

He sheds clothing as he treads in James' footsteps. James has his hand in Robbie's like a child, leading him. But there is nothing childlike in either of them, just heady want and need. James has already loosed his tie, but it is Robbie who removes it. They fumble together at Robbie's flies, laugh together, but it's a fevered thing, impatient and amusing all at once. They've both stripped off their shirts, and it's when Robbie lowers his mouth and licks a stripe down one of James' nipples that he draws out the long, guttural moan that he doesn't realise he's been longing to hear.

There is no more laughter. Only gasps, and sighs, and a low rumble that Robbie registers dimly as the blood rushing in his ears. James kicks off his trousers, peels off his pants, and his cock juts between them. Robbie takes him in hand, the long-forgotten motion of holding the weight of another man, testing the size and feel of him coming back to Robbie. Robbie marvels at the eager combination of delicacy and strength there. 

He jacks James' cock, and there's that moan again.

James throws back his head, leaving far too wide a swathe of neck untouched and so Robbie must remedy that as well. He wants to be everywhere at once, feeling everything, and James is the happy beneficiary. Not that his canny lad is too wrapped up in his own pleasure to see to Robbie. No, James is moving, rubbing, imprinting his fingers on Robbie's skin as if he might brand Robbie with the graceful trace of his touch.

"Tell me you have slick," Robbie demands. He hasn't thought this far ahead, unfortunately. The chemist had not been a stop between the airport and James' flat.

James quivers, bow tight with anticipation. "Yes," he breathes. "Oh yes. Fuck me?"

Robbie kisses him in answer.

James clicks on a light at the bedside, revealing pale, flushed skin in the gentle glow. Robbie feels a wreck, more so when James fumbles in the drawer and pulls out condoms and lube. The slick is cold, and he warms it between his fingers as James draws them both down to the unmade bed. James kicks aside the duvet impatiently, spreads himself beneath Robbie like a ready feast.

And Robbie? Well, Robbie is hungry. But he's determined to bide his time, as well. He cups the curve of James' arse, teases James' puckered hole with his index finger. "Ready?" he asks, but James' tight grip on his forearm is more than enough answer. One finger goes in fairly easily, and James grunts, a pleased sound. 

"More," he insists, and Robbie does not hesitate to add a second finger. God, the feel of him is damned near perfect, and Robbie's cock is weeping as he fingers James, opens him with gentle, deliberate motions. James is nearly there, Robbie thinks, James' quivering cock moving eagerly with Robbie's ministrations and it takes only a few swift movements from Robbie's free hand on it to bring a startled, punched out sound from James. And then he's coming. Christ, Robbie barely had to touch him and James is coming. The thought nearly drives him insane.

While James gasps, Robbie peels out a condom and rolls it onto his own cock. The slick helps, but he's so hard he's nearly afraid he'll embarrass them both by coming before he's got the job done. Nearly, but not yet. Because he wants nothing more to be buried in James. James, in turn, pivots his hips nicely as Robbie could want, practically begging Robbie to breech him, and so Robbie does. 

It's coming home. 

James tightens around him, gives a kind of hollow chuckle. "All this time, you bloody fool, and you could have had me." He raises himself from the bed, all of him, close enough to capture Robbie's lips before he settles back against the mattress.

"A right fool I was," Robbie admits, still chasing the taste of James at the back of his throat. "Let me make up for lost time?"

James smiles, and it's a beautiful, sensual thing. 

Oh God, Robbie loves him.

He moves, picks a pace that seems to please James. Stretches muscles he's forgotten he has until he's got just the right angle, the spot that hits James best. James is, it turns out, quite the talker once Robbie lets him go because Robbie can pick out bits of "please" and "more" and something that sounds vaguely like Latin poetry (of course, this is his James). Robbie is too winded to do more than bite his lip and concentrate on just the right fraction of motion, the maximum feeling he can eke out without losing himself altogether. 

It doesn't take long, however, and Robbie empties himself into James with a whispered sigh.

He can already feel himself softening -- James has taken all he has –- and he deals with the condom. He starts to shift, intending to go to the loo for a flannel, but James draws him down into a mess of sweat and seed and, help him, an angelic kiss that could revitalise the stamina of any old man. Particularly this old man.

"Give me a minute, eh pet?" he complains, and James laughs, full throated and pleased. James moves, and somehow he is in Robbie's arms. Which is as it should be.

"I love you," James says. "I've loved you for the longest time." His head is on Robbie's chest, their breathing twinned. 

"I know it," Robbie says ruefully. "I'm sorry. I was blind."

"Many famous poets were blind," James says thoughtfully.

Robbie's lips curve into a smile. "And I suppose you'll regale me with all of them."

"Eventually," James agrees.

Oh, that is a promise that Robbie fully intends to pursue. Because "eventually" sounds a lot like "forever." And that's fine by him.


End file.
